


Plunge

by Daphnean



Series: My EXO Challenge [13]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Fluff, M/M, Sappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-17 12:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8144831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daphnean/pseuds/Daphnean
Summary: One hit song and Yixing is brought back to his youth, back to high school crushes and feelings that still try to drown him as he floats through life on his back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Vague references to abusive parents and homophobia.

Yixing was thankful for such an observant manager. Kyungsoo had sat beside him during the meeting with the company’s executives and smoothly commented they had an appointment to make when the discussion finally began to taper off. Rather than direct them straight to the elevators, they’d taken the stairs, Kyungsoo stopping off past one of the quieter practice rooms, the one with the dark blue couch that Yixing had spent more than a few occasions sleeping on as he worked on albums and was too tired to go all the way across the city to his bed.

Leading them inside, Kyungsoo typed away quickly at his phone. “I can give you an hour. Play guitar a bit, sleep, or recharge…then we have two interviews. Would it help to talk it out?”

Yixing sat on the couch, body relaxing a bit with the familiar environment. “Probably not.”

“Then I’ll see you in an hour.” With a nod, he turned and walked out, Yixing able to pick up his low, smooth voice as he made his way down the hall until it faded with distance. Kyungsoo’s ability to perceive when to push, when to let a topic go, was something that Yixing was wholly envious of.

Moving to lay down with his head pillowed on the arm of the couch, he turned his thoughts to safe things first; his breathing, the feel of the couch beneath him, tangible things that grounded him. His phone was in his bag, the gray duffel currently puddled on the floor, and likely gathering more messages by the minute.

Three albums had gone virtually unnoticed by the mainstream media. Yixing was never in the business to become an icon, most days he woke up wondering how his busking had even gotten him this far, but he was always thankful, appreciative of the indie magazines that swore by his compositions or found his candid lyrics “refreshing.” It was enough to please his label, to keep him fed and allowed him to keep making his music. A couple songs made it onto b-movie soundtracks and some commercials, including one for cat food that had nothing to do with getting over heartbreak, but it just further proved to Yixing that he had no idea how this marketing game was even played, let alone the rules.

The first single of his fourth album, “The Water Guardian” had somehow caught fire; the music video soaring in views, retweets, and likes. Kyungsoo had told him, “talented or not, this is going to be your peak, be prepared.” Exoplanet Productions, his label, had called him in for three different meetings now, discussing his image, his promotions, and now the first big tour that was in the works. Yixing was now a face and a name in the modern music industry, after years of obscurity.

Placing his arm over his eyes, Yixing let this deep breath before the plunge try and still the shaking of his hands. Days ago he’d given up trying to figure out why this album and single had gained such momentum. His label had all sorts of survey data and intell from across the company, but Yixing had really zoned out through most of it, particularly as they started to account the “homosexual angle” as one of the key factors to his sudden fame.

Kyungsoo, after that meeting, had guided him by the elbow. “Bite your tongue till it bleeds. I’ll keep you from getting pigeonholed as “just a gay artist,” and all that bullshit, but don’t forget you’re lucky not to get shoved into the closet until you suffocate.”

The first three albums had required a lot of subtly, fans always throwing in the implications behind his limited gendered pronoun use. He’d had a few verbal rows with his producers when they’d try to shoehorn women into every single, leaving the meeting room clenching his fists, Kyungsoo following behind him swearing about both parties; Yixing for making his job harder and the production team for being “money-grubbing shithooks.”

Kyungsoo’s first text after his popularity skyrocketed had been so smug he’d felt it through the screen; _First openly gay single they allow you to put out and you’re the next Michael Jackson. I told you they could eat a bag of dicks. And now they’re going to say “ah” when they do it._

Monodrama had been an album rubbing him raw inside. While he was proud of all of his work, even if only for his growth since its release, his newest album had been a pretty mix of nostalgia and the culmination of years of life experience. He’d intended for one of his less personal songs, “Growl” to be his single, but it was Kyungsoo who had chosen “The Water Guardian,” suggesting it be the focus. After nearly five years of working together, Yixing was out of good arguments as to why he shouldn’t trust the younger man, too afraid to say the real reason why he’d originally pushed down one of his favorite compositions to one of the ending tracks.

It brought him back to the nights where the smell of chlorine had felt more comforting than the cigarette smoke on the couch where he slept back at home. The hard surface of the locker room bench against his back as he listened to Joonmyun encourage his teammates outside, loud over the splash of the water. The crescents of the other boy’s eyes as he smiled, suggesting again that he try out for the team so he could join their practices, instead of waiting till they finished to swim.

The song had nothing to do with young love, of high school crushes; it was a lyrical epic of a man’s quest to soothe the heart of a water god, who was flooding the world with his sorrows. The video, however, was a slightly retweaked version of his crush on a certain swim captain told with some young, pretty male actors that sold the concept well enough, even if they left out all the complicated matters of Yixing’s broken home life.

Class president, swim captain, history academic club president, salutatorian; Joonmyun was a man of a thousand titles, a too full bookbag, and a presence always a little bit frayed around the edges. Their interactions were brief and pleasant, and Yixing was certain he was the only one at the end of the day that still thought of the other. Joonmyun wasn’t the first boy that caught Yixing’s heart and kept it caged behind the teeth of his smile, but he was the first that he’d really wanted to keep in return.

Last he’d heard, which had been seven years ago, just after high school, Joonmyun had ended up getting a nice scholarship at the University of Pennsylvania and was pursuing his Master’s in History. And likely still not the sort to have any idea that a love story about Yixing’s crush on him in high school had gone viral and was sweeping the popular music scene.

Two quick, brisk knocks and Kyungsoo had stepped inside, and Yixing had felt like it had barely been ten minutes, let alone the hour that the man had promised. Dressed all in black, ball cap on, Kyungsoo looked like a shadow against the doorframe. “Gonna be able to make it today without shaking apart?”

Yixing slowly sat up, stretching his back, and nodded. “I don’t have a choice.”

“That’s the ticket.” Kyungsoo gave him a pat on the back. “Break down in the car later. We have tinted windows for a reason.”

“I,” Yixing grabbed his bag, following his manager out towards the elevators. “I still don’t know what to tell them. About the video, about the song…”

Kyungsoo snorted. “I figured. Yet you were the one that had brainstormed that idea for the video.”

“I liked the contradiction between this beautiful, almost fairytale-esque acoustic ballad about a man falling in love with a god to a simple, high school crush. It reminded me of how I felt, back then…how there was something magical about my heart and what it saw in him.” Yixing adjusted the strap of his bag along his shoulder as he spoke, staring ahead at the elevator doors.

Pressing the button to the ground floor, Kyungsoo shrugged. “I don’t know, that sounds pretty good to me. It’s going to get people touching their chests with the sincerity of it, that dewy look in their eyes as they try not to cry listening to you get sappy.”

“But he’ll know! I mean, I was pretty much just another face in high school, it isn’t like I had anyone to talk about my feelings with and all, but if I saw it and I was him…I’d know exactly what it meant.” Yixing ran a hand through his hair, currently a soft, sandy brown color, falling slightly over his forehead. “In the video they kiss.”

Kyungsoo looked over at him. “And in Disney’s Cinderella, her sisters don’t cut their own toes off to try and fit into the shoe. Liberties, good or bad, get taken with this shit. This doesn’t imply that you think he liked you back, it doesn’t out him if he is gay. Hell, the actors in the music video were Black and Japanese. It isn’t like we told your story exactly down to the letter.”

Yixing was silent, as they exited the building, the paparazzi all around, trying to snap pictures or call out in a way that would actually get his attention. Kyungsoo was a stoic wall of black fabric and stern brows, opening the door for him and ushering him inside. Yixing, always pleasant, gave a dimpled smile and a brief wave of acknowledgement before they both were settled inside, safe from the muffled roar.

“I…the one time I’m really, completely honest.” Yixing let his head fall back against the seat. “I get…this all happens. The Westboro Baptist Church has started burning my albums.”

“They had to buy them, so.” Kyungsoo sighed, leaning his head back as well. “At least…at least what some people love and admire is you, not some shell that you’ll have to try and maintain the rest of your life. It’s not as safe, exposed like this. You can’t say they hate someone you’re not, but…you can be yourself, you can maybe help some kid kiss his crush in the hallway and know he has a team of supporters behind him.”

Yixing closed his eyes, sighing. “I also don’t have to worry about anyone in my family disowning me or anything.”

“Gotta look at the positives.” Kyungsoo rested a hand briefly on his thigh. “Also, before I forget, Yifan wants an autographed copy.”

The shift of topic was sudden, made him laugh with the absurdity. “He would. Is it going to be your anniversary present?”

A snort, and the hand pulled away. “No, but we’re going to have to put that trip off. But once you’re all settled and quiet to write your next album, I’m taking my obscene amount of extra cash from all this and taking him on a horribly cliché and overpriced romantic trip where I’ll schmooze and spoil him till he cries.”

“I didn’t need to know about your sex life,” Yixing countered with a chuckle, looking over at his manager and friend.

That startled a laugh from the other man before his phone started to ring, Kyungsoo answering it with his typical furrowed brow look of concentration. It, unsurprisingly, was more obnoxious business chatter. Yixing drowned it out, focusing on the movement of the car and the cadence of Kyungsoo’s work voice.

\--

A week into his newfound fame, and Yixing was dragging, as was everyone working with him through the grind of interviews, photo shoots, and meetings. Kyungsoo, ever in control, even when the dark circles under his eyes seemed to overwhelm the rest of his face, finally ordered everyone to take an evening off before the weekend, where there were a slew of schedules for them to meet.

His apartment was so empty, after days with an entourage, but it was blissful relief. Yixing allowed himself to collapse face first onto his bed, breathing in the smell of fabric softener and zoning out with the hum of his air conditioner. He didn’t know how much time had passed when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Instinct made him almost toss the phone off onto the floor, but his concern to what it might be won out.

A text from Jonghyun, in charge of his social media, greeted him. _Kim Joonmyun is the name of your old high school flame, right?_

Brows furrowed, Yixing turned, wriggling up his bed until he could rest against the pillows. Only a couple of the people he worked with knew a great deal about him, particularly intimate details such as this, but Jonghyun had been one of the first people he’d ever really connected with in the company. They’d spent long nights in the practice rooms together, both of them thoughtlessly sharing their feelings on music and love, until they’d fall asleep on the stiff couches, usually half on top of each other.

They’d never expected to go anywhere as a couple, only a few dates in realizing that their relationship was never meant to be so intimate in a romantic sense. Still, he was now one of his closest friends alongside Kyungsoo and Chanyeol. So of course, he’d know all about Yixing’s small and frail love life, including the very muse for all of this fame and glory.

 _Yes. Why do you ask?_ Yixing tapped along the back of his phone as he waited for a response.

 _You got a message from him on your public account, or at least it seems like him. I can send you his profile picture for you to be sure, but it seems legitimate…_ Jonghyun seemed hesitant, but Yixing knew that he wouldn’t trouble him with something like this if he didn’t believe it was really Joonmyun.

Yixing’s throat felt tight, lodged around feelings too thick to swallow. How a high school crush could hit him this deep still, he didn’t know, but his pulse was so loud in his ears. _What did it say?_

He almost sat his phone aside, waited till tomorrow to read the reply as he was shuffled around for another photo shoot, but he kept the message open, phone in his hands.

_I’ll send you a screenshot. Hang on._

Yixing greedily looked over the picture, hoping for an indication that this was really the boy he remembered. The small icon next to the message was a little hard to make out, but he couldn’t forget the way Joonmyun smiled with his eyes.

_Yixing, you’ve gotten so famous! Half of my students are talking about you, instead of doing their work. Still, I can’t blame them…your song was so beautiful and the video was…touching. After watching it, I felt like I had to listen to your whole album, all of your albums. Who knew the boy who spent his evenings in the locker room silently had so much to say? I know you are quite busy, but if you get the chance, I’d like to say hello and catch up._  
_Joonmyun_

The message seemed pleasant, bright and friendly, but that was easy enough for Joonmyun to present. Yixing had watched him string himself back together in the locker room mirrors, breathing deep as he forced his smile back on. This could get as ugly as the slurs his mom threw at him before she died, but of all the people who deserved the inside scoop on his hot new album, it was Joonmyun.

 _Jjong, I want to see him._ For a moment he let his phone rest face down on his chest, eyes closed as he felt as if he was floating on his back, adrift in ever-shifting memory.

Finally, it vibrated. _Do you want me to arrange something?_

_Please._

\--

Jonghyun and Kyungsoo had gotten together to confer on Joonmyun and exactly how to handle the meet up. Yixing’s only request was that it be before the tour started, that way he’d be too caught up in the momentum to really linger on whatever catastrophe occurred.

Two days later and Kyungsoo had give him a pat on the back as they met in one of the studio board rooms, just before another meeting about tour dates and set lists.

“You have a date.” Kyungsoo’s voice was husky, his morning coffee still steaming as he slid into a chair beside him.

For a moment, Yixing was afraid the butterflies in his stomach would escape out his mouth. “Date?”

“Hold it, lover boy. A date to meet Joonmyun. And a location, too. Next Wednesday at six. Taekwoon agreed to close his shop early to the public, but keep it open for the two of you to meet.” After some of his coffee, Kyungsoo’s voice had smoothed only slightly, still morning-rough.

Yixing couldn’t help but smile, despite the nerves burning warm along his chest and cheeks. “I haven’t stopped by in a while. Did you promise him an autographed CD or a poster?”

Kyungsoo sipped his coffee again. “Mhm. Gave him one of each. He said he didn’t mind to help out. After you brought up the shop in an interview he’s been swimming in clientele. Had to hire two new staff members…and they’re also just as fucking tall as the rest of them. My neck hurts trying to read their name tags.”

That got a laugh from Yixing, who could feel himself dimpling. “Hakyeon’s not…well he’s not as tall as the rest of them.”

Kyungsoo began to respond when some of the senior staff began to arrive, and the topic quickly shifted to business. Their previous discussion would have to wait. It left time for Yixing’s thoughts to come together and the metaphorical dust to settle. In just a few days time, he was going see Joonmyun again. He’d become a celebrity, a popular musician, and that’s the thought that felt most unreal of all.

Conversation was directed his way and he forced his uneasiness to quell, focusing on the performances he wanted to present to the world now that they were all listening.

\--

Taekwoon was the only one manning the shop when Yixing arrived discretely from the alley entrance. He supposed two customers weren’t going to be much trouble, all things considered. After their greetings, he asked the typical things, how Hakyeon was doing and if he minded being home alone while Taekwoon worked, if the shop was doing well. Usually it wasn’t so hard for him to find time to stop by and catch up, even if he was doing shows or album work. Taekwoon’s shop was close to the studio, and even if it wasn’t, Yixing would go out of his way to visit still.

Before he signed on with a label, when his playing determined how well he’d eat that night, Yixing would play outside of the café. Taekwoon would step out wrapped up in a big scarf on cold nights, a to-go cup in hand. He’d set it gently beside Yixing’s upturned hat and softly request a song in exchange for the drink. Other nights the quiet man would leave a couple of fresh pastries in a paper bag or his boyfriend Hakyeon would usher Yixing in and ask if he’d play for them as they closed up for the night, letting him leech the warmth from their heating system. Yixing was not one to forget kindnesses.

Luckily, Taekwoon seemed to sense his nerves. When the conversation began to dwindle, he led him to a small booth tucked away from the windows. There was a softly lit candle in a glass globe, likely a romantic touch from Hakyeon, and his favorite hot chocolate steaming in a clean mug. With a thank you, he slipped into the seat facing the front door and took the warm cup in both hands.

Exactly at six, he heard a gentle knock on the glass. He kept his gaze on the chocolate in his mug, swirling slowly with the white whipped topping slowly melting into it. When he finally looked up, Joonmyun was standing inside, in a chunky cream sweater and dark brown slacks, just as small and bright as Yixing had remembered.

Taekwoon went behind the counter to make his drink and Joonmyun finally saw him, his eyes upturned like his smile as he waved. The soft gesture and soft man already had Yixing’s heart feeling so much younger. He could smell the chlorine; hear the splashing from the freshman goofing around before practice. The smile was easy to return.

Joonmyun slid in across from him, the sleeves of his sweater falling over his knuckles. “So famous you have cafes stay open late for you?”

“Taekwoon’s an old friend that still indulges me, but the fact my manager is paying him extra likely helps.” Yixing traced circles along the warm side of the mug, still unable to hide his smile. So far things were a stone skipping across the surface; nothing too deep.

“I see.” Joonmyun slid one hand into his hair. “I suppose I should ask how you’ve been, even if I suspect your answer will be busy.”

Yixing took a drink. “You wouldn’t be wrong. I can’t even take a selfie without the camera making me go into interview mode.”

Joonmyun laughed, the smallest bit too loud for the café being so quiet, eyes alight with amusement. “I didn’t think you’d be the sort to enjoy the attention.”

“How are you, then? You said you had students, in your message?” Yixing sat his mug down, still taking in the little details in the man across from him.

Joonmyun tugged one of his sleeves further over his knuckles before speaking. “Ah, yes. I’m an assistant history professor now at Penn and I really love my work. Most of the time I’m holed up in the closet I call my office or in the library, but…really it’s satisfying. It’s nice having students listen to me, for once.”

Taekwoon brought over Joonmyun’s drink and some pastries, all slightly heart shaped, likely another one of Hakyeon’s courtesies or perhaps Jaehwan’s, if it was his day to work this week. Joonmyun, ever polite, thanked the taller man.

“The job suits you.” Yixing took a pastry and bit into it, mostly for something to do with his hands. He wished he had his guitar. It always felt like a shield.

“As music suits you.” Joonmyun took a pastry as well, one of the most obnoxiously shaped ones, and tore a piece off, popping it into his mouth slowly, chewing before he spoke again. “That song…”

This is where Yixing’s stomach felt ready to drop; this was the peak of the roller coaster hill and only descent remained. He knew it wouldn’t take long for the question to surface. Still he made no motion to change the subject; he’d known well enough that the topic would come up tonight.

“It’s so beautiful. Someone on the radio called you a modern bard, and I couldn’t have agreed more. And then…then I saw the video.” Joonmyun licked the crumbs from the corner of his mouth, brows furrowing slightly before he turned his gaze to Yixing directly, voice so calm and soft. “And I realized it was about me. About us.”

Yixing exhaled slowly and nodded, not able to look away in case he missed one micro-expression from the man across from him. “Swim captains, to lost boys, often seem like something more…like water gods, or lighthouses on stormy seas…”

Joonmyun sat the pastry down, worried bottom his lip with his teeth. “But in the end, they are still swim captains…”

“Which is why the video was so important.” Yixing took a drink, the temperature now a little too cool, but he needed something for his dry throat. “Feelings are sometimes far more fairytale than the reality they contain.”

Joonmyun chuckled, tracing circles along the table surface. “I…had no idea you’d even liked me. You were just the quiet boy who slept on benches and swam when practice ended. I normally get a decent read on people, but you were…a mystery. I’d heard rumors, but when you’re that high up on the high school food chain, you know better than anyone how foolhardy those can be.”

“I…had imagined you into someone no one could be, even if you were still wonderful.” Yixing slid his hands onto his thighs, trying to hide how damp his palms were. “I was afraid, back then, to like boys. To like anyone. I had…a rough time, growing up.”

The other man nodded, expression a bit more focused, Yixing could tell it meant he was listening. “I get that. Believe me, I understand. Perfection, in its own way, is a special sort of torture, because no one believes that it’s wrong. In the end, I used everything I had been pushed into striving for as a means to get out. Out of my parents’ home, out of the closet, and into the person I’d wanted to be years ago.”

Yixing exhaled slowly. “Joonmyun…why come here today?”

He smiled then, but it seemed to be a natural reaction to anything, and it seemed to be holding back the smallest bit of fear, he could smell it along with the strawberry filling on his breath. “Because I believe in fairy tales and happy endings. And in the story, we kiss.”

“You’re here for a kiss?” Yixing’s stomach had gone from his feet to the crown of his head in an instant.

Another smile, this one more sincere, Yixing wondered how his expression looked to Joonmyun in return. “Yes, but a date would be nice too. I know you’re busy, a celebrity, but…”

Yixing placed a hand over his, fingers tracing over skin and the soft knit of Joonmyun’s sweater. “Does this count as the first?”

“I-” Joonmyun’s laugh was endearing, his eyes bright crescents above his cheeks. “I didn’t think…time changes a lot of things. We may not last.”

“Every song has to end someday, but some reverberate in us, some we listen on repeat for days on end and never let go.” Yixing stroked the smaller man’s knuckles, feeling his dimple appear as he smiled. “I want to find out.”

Joonmyun turned his hand so their fingers could intertwine. “So do I.”

**Author's Note:**

> EXO and all other Kpop entertainers presented here are real people and so I remind you that this is just a fic, like a play with their stage personas as the actors. This is not intended to be a representation of who these men and women are or are not. Remember to love and respect them always. And thanks for reading! <3


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